26 Isn’t Starting the Way I Thought It Would
I’m feeling hopeless, and a lot of it traces back to my ex-husband. Our divorce and custody agreement is relaxed on paper, but in real life it means I get screwed over every chance he gets. I chose a pretty shitty partner love-wise. He’s a good dad, sure—but responsibility? That’s optional to him.
He didn’t pay the car payment for months. I didn’t know how bad things were. Then my car was repossessed. It was in our agreement that instead of child support he would continue to make my car payment and his truck payment and I would keep up with the rent payments until the lease is up in April and decide if I’m going to renew my lease or look for a smaller place.
I had just emptied my savings to give my kids a great Christmas because I wanted them to feel magic, not stress. Now I’m stuck without a vehicle, trying to figure out how to rebuild from nothing. Until I can get a car, I don’t have my kids with me—and that pain is unbearable. It feels like someone ripped my heart out and told me to wait until further notice.
Being trapped in this house is killing me. I hate staring at the same four fucking walls. I haven’t had a cigarette since last Sunday, so I’m nic-fitting on top of everything else—overstimulated, overwhelmed, exhausted.
And honestly? I keep thinking, what’s the point? This is how 26 is starting, and I don’t want to participate.
Not because I don’t love my kids. But because right now, everything hurts, and I’m tired of always being the one who has to absorb the fallout.
He didn’t pay the car payment for months. I didn’t know how bad things were. Then my car was repossessed. It was in our agreement that instead of child support he would continue to make my car payment and his truck payment and I would keep up with the rent payments until the lease is up in April and decide if I’m going to renew my lease or look for a smaller place.
I had just emptied my savings to give my kids a great Christmas because I wanted them to feel magic, not stress. Now I’m stuck without a vehicle, trying to figure out how to rebuild from nothing. Until I can get a car, I don’t have my kids with me—and that pain is unbearable. It feels like someone ripped my heart out and told me to wait until further notice.
Being trapped in this house is killing me. I hate staring at the same four fucking walls. I haven’t had a cigarette since last Sunday, so I’m nic-fitting on top of everything else—overstimulated, overwhelmed, exhausted.
And honestly? I keep thinking, what’s the point? This is how 26 is starting, and I don’t want to participate.
Not because I don’t love my kids. But because right now, everything hurts, and I’m tired of always being the one who has to absorb the fallout.
